


Attempting To Run An Experiment

by afteriwake



Series: Unexpected Legacies [2]
Category: Arthurian Mythology, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Among the many interesting new powers Sherlock has received as a wizard is the ability to see and communicate with ghosts. Being of a scientific mind he wants to run an experiment of seeing just what he can do with this newfound power, and Molly has volunteered to help. But it doesn't work out exactly like he had planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attempting To Run An Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> I had quite a bit of fun with this one! The picture that inspired this fic is ["Ghost Town"](http://s29.postimg.org/nlnyps1s7/mtg_ghost_quarter_by_one_vox_d4907n0_zpsb03a682.jpg) by Pete Mohrbacher.

There was a knock at 221B Baker Street and Sherlock found himself feeling a bit more excited. Molly was the one at the door most likely, and he was glad for that. He had meant what he said at the hospital before his life took a sudden detour. She _did_ count and she had _always_ counted, and he found ways now to remind her of that. She had done her best to keep him alive if he had to fall and then for him to actually get up with no injuries...she knew she hadn't done that, but the relief on her face had been very apparent. When he had been allowed to come back home she had been so happy to see him that she had given him a warm hug, which he had to admit didn't feel all that uncomfortable. And that was when he knew he was more to her than simply a man she fancied. He was, at least, a friend, and he had to acknowledge that she was a friend to him as well.

Of all of the people who knew him she was the one who accepted his new reality the fastest. It had surprised her, just like it had surprised everyone else, but she wasn't repulsed or afraid. She had actually been rather fascinated, and he was grateful for that. She had helped him with testing the limits of what he could do, and while there were times it could get dangerous she stayed. The only time he had been tempted to tell her to stop was when she got hit by the fire he could call into his hands. A chunk of her hair was burned off and he had felt horrible as soon as he stomped down the panic that she had been more seriously hurt. That had been a strange moment for him, that brief panic that he might have hurt her. Part of it was because she was his friend and he didn't want her to hate him but another part was he was worried he was always hurting her, in one way or another, and this time had been a more physical instance of it. But she had said it was fine, she was just going to need a drastic haircut and he was obviously going to pay for it. He relaxed at that point and that afternoon did precisely that.

Today she was coming over to help him try something out with regards to his powers. She knew he could see spirits, and he wanted to see if he could envision the spirits in the environment they came from. He had the feeling banishing ghosts might be something he would be called to do, considering the types of cases he was getting, and if he could see what had happened to the ghost before they _became_ a ghost it would be a tremendous help. He stood up and straightened his suit jacket and fixed his cuffs before heading to the door, opening it. Molly had raised her hand to knock again and then she lowered it once she saw him. Her hair was now styled in a chin length bob that was shorter in the back, and he had let her splurge for something called a Brazilian Blowout and now her hair was stick straight as opposed to wavy. The combined effect made her look much more appealing than she had before. “Hi, Sherlock,” she said with a smile.

“Hello, Molly,” he said, giving her a faint smile back. “I see you brought coffee.”

She nodded. “Black, two sugars,” she said, handing him the taller cup. “I got a caramel apple cider.”

“It is definitely getting to be that time of year,” he said, taking the coffee and having a sip. “Soon everyone will be wearing hideous jumpers and the weather will take a turn for the worse.”

“But fall is much better than winter,” she said with a grin. “And not just because all the pumpkin stuff comes out. Halloween is coming, and that's a fun holiday.” Then she paused and her smile faltered slightly. “Though I doubt it will be fun for you now, I mean. All things considered.”

“I never really enjoyed the holiday much to begin with,” he said with a slight shrug. “And if there is truth to the idea that there are more spirits on the earth that day I'm fairly sure I'll be greatly annoyed by the end of the evening.” He moved over towards the curb and reached over to hail a cab. Three minutes later one pulled over and they both got inside. Sherlock told the driver to take them to Chelsea Physic Garden and they settled in as the cab pulled away.

“What is it like when you see one?” she asked before taking a sip of her drink.

He was quiet for a moment. “They generally take a humanoid shape. The stronger their tether here the more distinct they are. Some look like pale versions of real people, others are nothing more than human shapes that look as though they're made of smoke. Thankfully I can only hear what they're saying when I choose to acknowledge them or else there would be a never-ending chatter in my ear.”

“How many have you seen so far?”

“More than I can count,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “The whole city is haunted. Most don't choose to acknowledge me, and I purposefully don't bother them because I don't want to get swept up in whatever reason it was they became a ghost. The one at home wasn't all that keen on talking to me at first, but we've settled into a sort of acquaintanceship. If I have questions he answers them, most of the time without the banging drawers. That quite annoyed John.”

“I can imagine,” she said with a smile. “What's his name?”

“Robert Brown. He died in a fire two hundred years ago, give or take, and he wasn't allowed to move on. He's generally harmless and prefers to observe the people who have lived in 221B Baker Street than cause mischief. But he's given me a lot of insight into why ghosts do not move on, as there have apparently been more ghosts on the premises than just him. Some are afraid, some cling to a place because they have a loved one there or family that survived, and some simply aren't allowed to. And then there are those who have evil intentions. Those are the ones I think I might end up dealing with the most.”

She nodded. “I wouldn't be surprised. Do you see any spirits now?”

The cab had come to a stop at a traffic light, and he looked around for a moment before pointing to his left. “There are two outside that building there, reenacting a duel that appears to have killed both of them.”

“Part of me almost wishes I could see it,” she said.

“It's more annoying than fascinating,” he said before having more of his coffee. The cab began moving again and he lapsed into silence until they got closer to their destination. “I'm thinking we should go inside and I'll see what I can do. I've caught glimpses before of the time and place someone died, and Robert has allowed me to practice, but that was concentrating on one ghost. This will be a test to see how well I can do it with multiple ones.”

“Do we want to sit on a bench, just in case?” she asked.

He nodded. “That would be best, I think.” The cab pulled up at the entrance and Sherlock paid the driver before they got out. They made their way to the entrance and Sherlock looked around for a bench. He pointed to his left after a moment. “There's one there.”

“Are you going to be able to talk to me as you're looking?” she asked as they moved in that direction.

“I don't know,” he said. “I haven't attempted to before.”

“Well, if you can I think that would be best,” she said. “Then I'll be able to know what's going on.”

“All right,” he said. They made it to the bench and sat down. He turned to her and handed her coffee. “Make careful observations as to what I do. This is an experiment, after all, and we should catalog the results.”

She nodded, setting both of their drinks on the ground beside her. “I'm ready when you are.”

He gave her a slight nod, and then he looked around. He saw some indistinct shapes nearby and he looked at them, trying to bring them into focus. Soon the gardens began to slip away, and it all looked different. It was getting darker even though he knew it was barely noon. He saw a carriage of some sort that was damaged and abandoned, with a wheel on a cobblestone street. There were weeds in a fountain and weeds at various points in the cobblestones. It appeared as though this area was in complete disrepair. This was most certainly not the gardens, he realized rather quickly.

He saw multiple spirits inhabiting the scene, but they didn't have distinctive features. They were simply humanoid shapes, moving and wailing. And then one of them spotted him. It began to drift closer, and the others followed. As they got closer he could see they still were not looking like actual people. They didn't approach menacingly, but when the first one who had gotten closer drifted through him he felt a chill all the way to his bones, and then he saw another scene. A barroom brawl. A knife in the gut. Dying alone in an alleyway. When that stopped another ghost went through him. Once again there was a chill and then he saw more scenes: a fire raging out of control and a woman huddled in the corner with her children and no chance to escape. Each time a spirit when through him he saw how they died.

Suddenly it was all gone and he was blinking as he struggled to focus on what was in front of him. Molly was standing in front of him and she had a hand on either side of his face. He instinctively reached up and put his hands on top of hers. “Sherlock, are you all right?” she asked. “You're cold as ice and you were shaking and...”

“I'm fine,” he said, his voice just a bit shaky. “I don't know if I actually saw London or not, but I saw ghosts. When they walked through me I could see exactly how they died.”

“Oh my God,” she said, her eyes wide. “How many deaths did you see?”

“Five,” he replied.

“Does this happen when you interact with spirits without doing what you just did?” she asked as he removed his hands. She let go of his face and then went to sit down next to him, picking up his coffee and handing it to him.

He shook his head before taking a long sip of the coffee. It was a start to warm him up, but not much. He still felt cold as ice. “I feel a slight chill, but I don't see how they died.”

She reached over for his free hand, and after a moment he grasped it tightly. “I was worried. I didn't know what was going on and you weren't really speaking in sentences. You were just saying words. Did someone get stabbed, and someone else die in a fire?”

He nodded. “Yes, the first two ghosts.”

“You mentioned knife and fire, and I thought that might be why. Then you just started shaking and not saying anything.”

“He'll get better with practice.” Molly started and even Sherlock was surprised at the voice behind them. He turned and saw Merlin there, though he wasn't in a robe this time. His white beard had been trimmed down to something much shorter, and he had on a brown T-shirt, denim trousers and trainers with a long brown trench coat over all of that. “I thought it might be best to look less conspicuous.”

“Popping up unexpectedly in the middle of the garden isn't very smart,” Sherlock said.

“I didn't pop up. I walked over,” Merlin said with a grin. “I only use that skill when it suits me or I need to make a quick exit. You'll be able to do it too, one day. When you get enough practice, at least.”

Sherlock nodded. “The place that I saw, the abandoned buildings. Was that really London?”

Merlin shook his head. “It was more of a way station. Until you practice more you can't see the actual location where a person died, but you can interact more with the ghosts there than you can on this plane. The more ghosts you try and interact with at once the more taxing it is on your body, though. That's why it feels like your body is made of ice right now.” He reached over for Sherlock's shoulder and squeezed it gently, and suddenly Sherlock felt warmth coursing through him. “I'll teach you how to do that for the next time you practice.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I think we need to start having actual lessons. You seem to be bound and determined to run experiments on yourself,” he said. “At least if I'm there you don't run the risk of doing serious damage.”

“Well, then I should leave the two of you alone,” Molly said, letting go of his hand and standing up.

“Actually, it would be best if you or John was there when he did these lessons,” Merlin said. “It helps to have someone who can bring him back to this time and place. To be a tether, as it were. I'll be guiding him and he'll be concentrating quite hard and there's always the chance he could get lost.”

“Do we want to start these lessons now?” Sherlock asked.

“I have the entire day free,” Molly said.

“Then I'd say now is a good time to start,” Merlin replied with a nod. Molly knelt down to pick up her drink as Sherlock stood up. “I think for appearances sake we should take a cab back to your home, Sherlock. Even if I could transport all of us there fairly easily with magic. Which will be something I teach you sooner rather than later. But today we'll work with the spirit in your home so you can begin to master this skill you want to learn.” He gave the two of them a grin. “So! Shall we go?”

“Let’s go,” Sherlock said as both he and Molly nodded. Merlin came around the bench and they headed towards the entrance of the garden. He hoped these lessons would actually help, that he could learn to use all of these skills he had developed to the best of his ability, because he had the feeling his life and the lives of others could very well depend on it.


End file.
